


Change

by allofuswithwings



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Heavy Angst, M/M, POV First Person, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: Some things you wish you could change. Others you don’t. Some, you think you can’t.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal/Dreamwidth. Originally published April 2010.
> 
> Another song!fic. Lyrics from Change by Karnivool.

~

_So if you like the sound of  
The glass that breaks against the wall  
I’d trade it all for several  
Pieces of your anger_

~

I wince as another one of my wine glasses smashes against the brickwork. It shatters on impact, the shards splintering and showering out onto the concrete and garden bed below.

I look over at you and take another sip of my red wine, trying to stop the shake in my hands. It’s harder now that I’ve got a few drinks in me. Not as many as you, mind.

I should have stopped you when you went for the gin out of my liquor cabinet, but I didn’t. There’s a lot of things I should have stopped in the past year, but haven’t.

I’m too weak, too selfish. And it’s brought us here. To a place where I won’t give you what you need, and you won’t force it from me.

I told you why I couldn’t do what you asked. We bickered and fought for days, but eventually you gave in. Said I was right. Agreed no-one would understand.

You take another swig from the gin bottle and fish a fourth glass from the box. They were an engagement present. It seems fitting you should destroy them.

You meet my eyes, and I see them flicker with fire for a moment. But it’s gone just as quickly, and the only sign of anything amiss is the crash of glass on brick once more.

Your laugh makes me shiver. It’s so empty. Not that anyone else would know, if they were around to hear it.

Only I know you this well. Sometimes I wish I didn’t. If I could undo the last year and a half, things would be better, easier.

But then all the memories would be gone. Those I savour late at night, when you’ve gone off to numb it all with thumping music and loose women.

The smell of your skin. The feel of your body under my hands. The way you say my name when I push inside you.

All of it would be gone, and I don’t want that. I couldn’t live without it now.

Which is why I don’t stop you when you come back to me, tired of the women, booze and clubs. I let you have me again. Let you kiss me, fuck me, hold me. Let you tell me you love me.

But I can’t tell you the same. Because you won’t believe me.

You’ve got down to the last glass, and this one you take by the foot. You make your way past the pool to the brickwork and face the wall. The broken shards of the rest of the set crunch under the rubber of your shoes.

My throat makes a small sound of shock as your hand blurs up to smash the bowl against the bricks. I discard my own drink on the table, spilling wine everywhere, and rush over to where you stand.

The foot and stem hang loosely in your hand, which is now decorated with slivers of broken glass. The base of your thumb and index finger are starting to bleed, sliced open by bigger pieces that have fallen to the floor.

I grab your wrist, shaking the remnants from your skin, and hear my heart hammering in my ears.

Body still facing the wall, your gaze tracks over to me. Your eyes have that look in them I always see now. And it hurts.

Because I know I can fix it. But I won’t.

You smile at me and my chest hurts. This is my fault but you never blame me.

My other hand comes up unconsciously to the back of your neck, stroking your hair.

“Let’s go inside; get you fixed up, yeah?” I say quietly.

You nod, and lean over to press a soft kiss on my lips. Once again, I don’t stop you.

I don’t think I ever will.


End file.
